When the world was young and the gods who ruled it were still foolish and boastful there disputes would be settled by the creatures of the world. Artefacts and relics of incredible power litter the land; swords that could split the sea, wands that could alter reality, armours which could protect the wearer from any physical harm. During this era the world was a place of chaos, even a small duel between just two would turn into a calamity when such potent and powerful items were bared. The gods, in all their petty greed and spite of each other had created means for the world to be destroyed and as the days grew darker it seemed that without intervening total destruction was the only possible outcome the seeds the gods had sowed would reap.

a council was held by the gods, and it was decided that these items of incredible power needed to be destroyed. They each chose a champion and tasked them with reclaiming all the items, and destroying them in the forges of lava at the heart of the world.

And so it was that the world was made safe again, as each gods champion collected and destroyed the most potent and powerful magical items, melting them in the fires of the world. All the items that is, except for one; while the more boisterous, valorous, fearsome, and powerful gods had bickered with each other, using the creatures of the world to settle their disputes, Hanansi the trickster had waited, whispering in an ear here, bragging of a foes achievement there. Hanansi had bided his time and waited, waited until the council had been called and the items were set to be destroyed. Then, as was his capricious way, he’d chosen a champion of his own and had them hide in the fires at the heart of the world with the only item Hanansi had ever crafted, a net that could withstand lava, an artefact so simple the other gods had laughed when he’d first crafted it so many years ago.

And so it was that as the champions did their gods biddings, Hanansi’s champion did his gods too. He scooped up the molten slag of the destroyed artefacts, and sifted from it only the most potent fragments of magical power. These he set aside to harden together into a single object of raw godly energies, The Wishing Stone. It wasn’t a perfect sphere, nor was it a perfect oval; rather the reality of the shape lay somewhere in between, like some one had grabbed an egg and managed to pull it apart without it breaking. And although the stone glowed with a dull blue energy, it wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination what anyone would call magnificent. It didn’t inspire awe, nor did it induce feelings of serendipity or trepidation. But that didn’t mean the Stone was any less powerful. Hanansi had watched the gods bequeath to the creatures of the world weapons and items of incredible power. He’d watched how these objects were used by the creatures of the world to wreath destruction and havoc only confined by the limitations of the weapons that they wielded. And so Hanansi had created an object which removed all those limitations, destructive potential without end. Hanansi wanted to see what would happen if the creatures of the world were given limitless opportunity, would they do good or bad?

Once the Stone was finished setting Hanansi’s champion asked his god for his reward, but Hanansi is above all things a capricious trickster, and he had beckoned his champion to him, luring him to the edges of the lava with promises of rewards beyond the imagination. There, on the lip of a chasm surrounding the lava the earth had broken and Hanansi’s champion had died, taking with him the only knowledge of where the Stone was secreted.

And so it came to be that the Wishing Stone, the most potent magical object in the world was buried at the heart of the world, not to be seen again. That is to say, not until Hanansi decided it was time; and so Hanansi watched, and waited, avoiding the affairs of gods and the creatures of the world until the time was right; bidding his time like the spider sitting in its web.

And like the spider in its web Hanansi feels all the vibrations around him, vibrations that are telling him it is time. So with a whisper into the ear of a lord here, a sign to a peasant there, slowly Hanansi is spreading the word. The Wishing Stone is a secret no more.

What is it?:-Welcome to the first goblins Ratings War. What is a Ratings War I hear you asking yourself, which is probably a pretty good questions in all honesty.

A Ratings War is a Role-play which takes the form of a character battle; specifically an Original Character battle. (The key word here is Original.)

In a Ratings War contestants compete against each other in battles of prose; pitting their characters against each other in a short story that ends in defeat for their opponent, and victory for their protagonist. Both competitors write an entry to completion, but in the end only one will be the true victor.

Rules:-The competitors of the Rating War will be divided into (hopefully) even brackets, with each bracket’s competitors ‘fighting’ against each other in few rounds of preliminary battles.

In each battle two competitors will be paired off against each other, battling in a predetermined arena; each battle will last a full week from its announcement, during that time the players must write a piece of prose to it’s completion in which their character must fight and defeat their opponent’s character.The only limitation I’ll be imposing on the battles at present is to please refrain from killing your opponent’s characters in the preliminary rounds. After all, if there is more then one bout of preliminaries then their character still needs to be alive to compete in them. But aside from that, the rest of the battle is entirely up to your creativity and imagination.

Each entry will be rated by three judges, and at the end of the round the player with the highest score will be the winner.

After the end of the preliminary battles the highest scoring writers from the brackets will proceed to the next rounds, engaging in elimination battles until finally only one combatant is left. They shall be proclaimed as the winner of the Ratings War, and all the gloating rights that come with it.

If a player fails to submit an entry in the one week time frame, then their opponent will win on default. If both players fail to submit entries, then how each round is proceeded on will be decided by me on a case by case basis. But hopefully no such cases arise, so this wont shouldn’t be a problem.

What I need from you:-Still with me? Well if you’ve read this far I assume you’re actually interested in joining this competition. Good for you. To actually sign up to this battle here’s what I need; your Character sheet. It must include the following details (so feel free to ctrl+c ctrl+v it)

Name: Self explanatory really.Nicknames/aliases: Do they have any?Eye color: Self explanatory really.Hair color: Self explanatory really.Age: Self explanatory really.Race: No limitations on races; be what ever you want.Appearance: Physical looks, clothing, the whole hog. More is better than less.Weapons/powers: How does your character fight?Biography: Please try to provide a lot of information on your character here; it’ll be really useful for both the judges to get a feel on how well you’re writing your character, and for your opponents on how to write your character competitively in turn.Reason for wanting the Stone: Are they looking to protect the wishing stone forever? Do they have a wish they want granted? Do they even know why they are here or was it just an act of fate? Even if you establish this in the biography, reiterate it in short hand here please.

Tips for starters:-Be the underdog: Everyone loves an underdog, and even though you can win with an overpowered character (the competition is based on your writing skills after all) stories become much more engaging when the protagonist is on the back foot; at least for some of it. Think of all your favourite movies and books, I guarantee you that one of the best things about them is wondering just how the protagonists will overcome their seemingly unstoppable foes.

Depth: Even though a lot of the fights will be predominantly physical (although if you can think of other more creative ways to beat your opponents, by all means go for it.) Both the reads of this thread and the judges are going to want to see your character develop and grow. Show what they think, sho what they feel, show how they react both emotionally and physically to the battles they are going through. Do they have vices or flaws? Can they over come them? Do they develop any faults from there fights? Is their motivation for fighting consistent or does it change as the competition progresses? We want to see all these things, so show them to us!

Discussion: You’re not just going to be writing your own character, you’re going to be writing a variety of your opponent’s characters well, so get to know them! PM your opponent with questions you have, and in turn answer any questions they have about yours. Often in getting to know the player behind the character, you’ll also get to understand the character too. Not to mention, no one wants to see there character written poorly, so make sure you treat everyone else’s character with the same amount of respect that you’d like them to show yours in turn.

Edit, Edit, Edit: After writing your piece make sure you take the time to reread it and edit it. This is after all a writing competition; things like grammatical errors could end up costing you the round.

FAQS:-Will this be a massive time demand?No, not at all. If we had say for example 8 writers, that can be broken down into 2 brackets of 4, with each person writing against 1 opponents in the bracket in each round. Each round lasts for say a week, and we only cover one bracket in each week (this is to keep things manageable for the judges)

So, for example, we have writers A,B,C,D,E,F,G,HBracket 1A,B,C,D

Bracket 2E,F,G,H

Round 1A vs BC vs D

Round 2E vs FG vs H

Round 3A vs CD vs B

Round 4E vs HF vs G

Highest scores in Bracket 1 and 2 proceed to finals

Semi final 1winner of bracket 1 vs second winner of bracket 2

Semi final 2second winner 1 vs winner of bracket 2

FinalWinner of semi 1 vs winner of semi 2.

All up 7 rounds of writing, only 2 of which you are definitely going to write in.

What if I can’t write?No time like the present to start. But seriously, if you’re even curious about writing, a Ratings War is a great way to get feedback on your writing technique from a range of different people.

Dusk9 wrote:I have a couple of questions about the setting - is this a D&D world? If yes, does that mean characters are limited to the races (and classes) of D&D, or can they be and do anything we can imagine? Also, what are the civilisations of this world like? Magic is obviously common, or at least known of, but how advanced are things like non-magical technology, weaponry, and travel?

This is not a D&D universe, rather think of it as a universe of almost limitless potential. If it's a race you want to write, than create it. If it's a magical ability you want your character to poses, go for it.

However a note on technology; I'm happy for people to bring in Steam Punk era tech, but nothing more modern then that.

I can’t think of anything else, but feel free to ask any questions you have and I’ll answer them.

Judges:-The judges have been selected. Thank you all applicants.

Cast of Characters:- Just copy each line of code after the http:// for a quick link to each players post.

Name: Vritra.Nicknames/aliases: Many and varied, mostly to do with how much people hate and fear her, and some to do with her diminutive size (but never where she can hear them).Eye colour: Orange flecked with gold, burning with an internal flame.Age: Over 400 years old.Race: Dragon.

Appearance:

- Vritra is a midnight black dragon, flecked with silver that glitters like the stars. - She is a small dragon, only the length of two men (~10ft long from snout to tip of the tail, and a 12ft wingspan).- Lithe rather than heavily built, relying on speed rather than overpowering muscle.- Has rear claws and talloned fore hands- Glittering silver teeth and claws- Heavily scarred

Weapons/powers: - Can fly- Extremely sharp teeth and claws- Magical blue flame that warps and corrupts all that it touches

Biography: Vritra is not the oldest nor the youngest of the dragons, but she is almost the last, her species having been hunted to near extinction by the other races, and through the solitary lifestyles they lead. Her mother lay Vritra's egg in a blasted, magical wasteland (a left over from a time long ago when mages fought for control of the gods magical items) - the only safe place that she could find for many weeks flight in any direction. She stopped only long enough to bury the egg before flying off again to draw her pursuers away and give her new child a chance to escape death.

Despite dragons being semi-magical creatures themselves, the ancient and powerful spells and magics that infused the battlefield soaked into the egg, twisting the dragon slowly forming within into something new and something dark.

When the egg finally hatched, Vritra emerged to find herself alone, devoid of kin and in a dark and barren world. The magics drew themselves to her; like a lightning rod in a storm they earthed themselves through her – half formed spells, scraps and fragments of old battle magic and all the unnatural energy were all drawn to her young form, filling her with crackling, powerful darkness.

Her first contact with the races of the world was a disaster – they just saw a dragon; enemy of all who lived, not seeing the orphaned and wounded creature who stood before them and she barely escaped with her life. The next time she attempted to contact others she was more prepared and escaped them easily. So it went on; every village she went to chased her with torch, arrow and sword. Eventually Vritra grew tired and withdrew to the magical wastes to contemplate her existence but it was too late; word had spread of a young dragon attacking villages, slaying animals and townspeople alike (the tales had magnified themselves with each telling) until it reached the ears of a young prince, who gathered together a force of men at arms and went out to slay the beast.

Almost 50 men entered the magical wastes, knights and archers, on horse and on foot, all intent on slaying the dragon, all wary of the ancient magics which were still said to haunt the wastelands, all keen to bring back the beasts head and the stories of a valiant conquest.

They were all to be disappointed.

Attacked in her own lair, fed up of the rejection and hatred, Vritra took to the sky and hunted the band of warriors amid the ruins of wizards towers, blasted forests and mountains burst apart by the power of spells. Darting from dark hiding places she would pluck off stragglers in her razor sharp claws, or flame with her magical breath which altered anything it touched in hideous ways, melting and reforming the men and animals it touched, pitting and corroding armour and flaying the minds of its victims; the power of magic concentrated without direction or control – drawn directly from the twisted earth itself and given form by Vritra’s flame.

No man escaped. A single terrified horse was found wondering aimlessly at the borders of the magical wastes and was recognised as the princes’ steed; it was covered in blood and guts and quite out of its mind.

Now no one dares enter the wastes.

For the next 400 years Vritra was alone, brooding. The few dragons who flew in range of her thoughts avoided her, thinking her a gross abomination. The few mindless animals and lost travellers who entered the wastes were her prey and from the last of these wonderers she learned of a meeting of champions to fight for a magical stone that is said to be able to grant he who controls it any wish they desire… And there was a lot that Vritra desired…

ReadsVoraciously wrote:I'm interested, just a bit overloaded at the moment. When do you think the first "matches" will be? I don't know if I will have time to write up a decent character background for a couple days.

I'm going to keep sign ups open for at least a week to give people time to create a character they are happy with. So I wont be starting the first rounds tell Monday next week at the earliest. Maybe even a bit later then that, as I'll be flying back to Australia around then. And then, if you have a preference for it, I will start you in the second round which means you wont be competing for at least a fortnight from now. How does that suit you?

BurnsBees wrote:I'll....try.

That's the spirit. You don't lose anything by having a go.

m0rtimer wrote:I'm in. Everything will be up tommorow.

Yay!

Dusk9 wrote:Hmm....I think I might be interested....It'll take me a while to write a backstory and everything, so I'll edit it in here when I'm done (unless I change my mind about taking part, that is).

Name: Scott LyndonAlias: The Dead Man, The Gunslinger, The Fooled Puppet, The Errant Knight. All his own ironic self-appointed nicknames. Scottie, Lyn. Given to him by long dead friends.Eyes: Red, like lava.Hair Color: Blonde, like the sun.Age: Lyndon only recently came back to life. It has been quite some time since he was born however. He looks to be in his mid twenties.Race: Human.Appearance: Lyndon wears the bloody clothes of a magi. They normally would be a light grey. He has put his long hair up in a ponytail. His skin is tanned and his feet are bare and without protection. His face is unscarred and bearded. He has a wide build and some muscle.Weapons/Powers: Lyndon wields no weapons right now save a dagger that reflects chaotic magicks only. He is not skilled with its use, though he is skilled with sword and sheathe. You could also say his mind, if you were feeling poetic. He does not use magic, as it literally blows up in his face. He also has literal hot lava blood. Those kind of things do happen when you've been revived.Personality: Lyndon is now cold distant and abrupt, with a short fuse. Mentioning Henansi in any sort of favorable light will cause him to attempt to kill the speaker. He prefers those who speak only when they need to and are respectful, though he would only say so if asked.

Bio: The craggy earth beneath his feet shifted and sank. The man looked down. In the new cracks there was lava and it glowed a fierce red, in contrast to his dull blue eyes. It rose quickly, the heat searing his face and flesh. He took a step back, and felt as the earth shifted more. Stumbling, the man fell and felt as that ground sank, the lava sure to be overtaking it. He rose, with little balance and covered his eyes from the smoke that was slowly covering the air. Readying his throat, he yelled:

In his head, echoing within its walls, the champion heard his master's response, cold and without emotion:

"I know. You shall die today and I will live to be the only one who knows of the stone."

The champion's face contorted in anger, rage and indignation at the betrayal. He continued to stand, taking deep breathes and staring at the darkness above. He ignored the lava as it ate at his feet and legs and then his chest and arms. As the world faded from view, Lyndon uttered five words.

"Revenge, Henansi. It will come."

Then for a long while, Lyndon knew only pain. He was enclosed in darkness, and yet surrounded by fires of an unbearable heat. He felt others crowd about him, shoving for room and safety.Once he was pushed into the insatiable flames. He felt the pain sharply and clearly. Eventually, he rose from them and pushed the others out of his way, finding a cozy spot in the center. Curling up, Lyndon slept, promising himself that when he woke he would find a way back to the mortal world.

He woke up with the air around him cold, so cold. His breathe was chilled and his hands clutched at clothes that were not there. Looking around, Lyndon found himself surrounded by a circle inscribed with intricate symbols and men cloaked in robes outside that. One, whose grey cloak had a thorned crown on the front, stepped forward. Lowering his hood, the old man stared at Lyndon, lip trembling and eyes filled with hope.

"Henansi, my lord?" he asked, quiet and respectful.

Lyndon stopped shivering, and set his eyes back to the man. "No. I am his champion. Was." Rising, Lyndon rose and walked to the edge of the circle. There the stone suddenly rose up high like a mountain, blocking his way.

From the other came the man's voice once more "Fascinating! So are you from the times of legend, when all the gods used their powers wantonly to create artifacts of untold power? But," he paused "you say you were Henansi's champion? Why are you no longer? Do you believe yourself to be too fine for our lord?"

Lyndon sharply inhaled. "Henansi betrayed me and his word, leaving me to die and then linger in an evil place."

Hoarse, hearty laughter came from the other side. "Betrayed his word? Henansi the trickster, the spinner of lies? No, you trusted him to readily."

Anger rushed through Lyndon's veins and he threw his fist. "No! I asked for a simple thing, which Henansi knew would buy my loyalty and tongue!" Pulling his fist from the stone, Lyndon continued softer "Greedy coward."

"You obviously don't understand our lord. Would you help us bring him to this world?"

"Only to rip his life from his soulless body before slaughtering the rest of you daemon-worshipers."

Lyndon could hear feet shuffling and robes rustling in front of him, and turned to see the others. They were reaching into their robes sleeves and pulling out scrolls. Mumbles filled the room, and each robe gained two white pinpricks in their hoods. The scrolls were set aflame, and each man faced their palms to Lyndon. From behind he heard a young lad, voice cracked say, "Master Vintius, I have it."

"Marvelous! Now someone break the circle." Directly across from Lyndon a cultist toed the circle's chalk. Behind he heard something that sounded like sand or soil rushing down. Turning, Lyndon saw just in time as Vintius stepped through the falling veil and stabbed him, the pain soon coursing through him.

"You shan't die today. We need to use you-"

Lyndon gripped Vintius's frail wrist with both hand and sharply twisted it. Cracking followed and the man slumped to the floor sobbing.

"I know I won't die today, because I am going to kill you all." pulling the dagger out, Lyndon ignored the hot pain.

Staring at all six remaining mages and always turning, he waited for one to act.

"His blood! Look at it!" a shrill young boy's voice screeched from a rather small robe. "It glows like hell and burns through the floor!"

"Boy, shut your mouth and leave here before I kill you."

All the hoods turned to look at one. Voices muttered and layered upon one another saying things like "Don't be a coward!" "Think of Henansi!" "Where would you go, Zako?" "The dragon's more likely to get you than this dead man." "It's the wastes out there!"

Lyndon shook his head and proclaimed "Dead man often try to drag the living down with them. Don't let them." The pain was getter sharper, his breathing harder and stomach cramped. Time was not on his side, and all his bluffs had failed. It was time to fight.

Breaking into a stunted run, Lyndon charged the robe next to the boy, roughly slicing his neck and then whipping the body round to face the others. Black magicks assaulted the body, burning it and filling the air with smoke. The boy screamed as the blood and smoke hit his face, and began to run for a black door. Scott grunted, pushing the body to the ground and ran for another robe. Half-way there he threw his dagger out, and hit a shoulder. The mage slightly spun in pain, the two white orbs in his hood dying down.

"You bastard!" he muttered, ripping the dagger out. Holding it reverse-gripped, he swung it at Lyndon's face. Pulling back, Lyndon dodged several more swings, waiting. But the other robes continued to blast magicks at him, and Lyndon found it hard, almost impossible to dodge both. And his wound still got worse. Desperate, he did the only thing he could think of: Lyndon stuck out a hand, trying to grab the man's arm.

He failed. The knife went through his hand, blood spewing out. It hit the mage in the face, and his flesh started to sizzle. Screaming like a dog, he clutched at his face, clawing to try to get the pain out. Dropping to the ground, he started sand-papering his face.

"Holy shit!" one of them screamed, and Scott swung his head just in time to see two more robes leave. Funny how quick bravado could disappear.

Bloodied and running on will, Scott turned to face the last robe. Pulling the black dagger out of his hand, he gave it one last chance. "Six dead or out, one left."

There we go. It's a nice first post, if I do say so myself. Critique away.

Last edited by TheKidd on Sun Sep 18, 2011 4:03 pm, edited 7 times in total.

Name: ZaltinNicknames/aliases: The Fairy DuelistEye color: PurpleHair color: WhiteAge: 189 (fairies live 10x longer than humans)Race: FairyAppearance: Standing at a mere 6 inches tall, Zaltin wears a white shirt and black vestibule with slits for his (epic) fairy wings. He always keeps his blue fedora on hand (and takes it as quite the insult should he lose it). He wears boots made from mostly wrapped cloth to maintain light weight. By all means he is but a small human with purple eyes and short white hair. He keeps maintains his 'better than thou' demeanor at all times, which causes him to often keep his head held high. His wingspan is a mere 8 inches though he maintains 4 wings with the consistency between a bat and a dragonfly. Pale of skin and wiry framed -for those who get close enough to see him- he is tall for a fairy but they are rather small beings.

Weapons/powers: Carrying a rapier with the hair of a unicorn imbedded at the core, Zaltin is a fierce precise fighter who uses the innate power of the unicorn to channel his fairy magic for devastating charges that can pierce most anything not hardened for battle. He will often dodge his opponents and blast through their faces when possible, but when forced to delve into deeper tactics, he'll use his size to his advantage, hide, and blast them in the most visible weak-spot. When his hat is knocked off though he goes into a rage -just because the hat looks so cool- and at this point his rage brings his power into a berzerk rage. How this power manifests is seemingly random. He has been known to change shape, or just basically go super saiyan on his enemies, or in the longest and best of fights, he will gather all his power and go for one amazing penetrating piercing blast where he dives through his opponent's heart.

Biography: Born to a noble family in the fairy kingdoms, Zaltin was always given the best in life and taught to look down on all others. He was taught the way of the gentleman's sword from early on and this only fostered his elitist mindset as there were few who could match his talent, and none who could surpass it. When he then heard of the powers of the unicorn's hair, he immediately set out to find one, only due to the rarity. He spend nearly 60 years searching for the mythical beast, never forgetting how amazing he would be if he accomplished his task. For none could best him, nor should they be allowed to. Upon slaying the beast -however unnecessary- he immediately returned to his home where he had the finest sword possible crafted. Upon taking it, rather than pay the outrageous amount he had agreed upon, he ran the smithy through, for he should not have to pay a peasant. After his adventure though life seemed mundane. He married his betrothed, took over his house after his parents 'mysteriously died' and established himself anew under the motto "Solo gloria meo" (to me alone the glory) Yet bored with this, he went venturing out into the world seeking more glory, killing any who dared to take him on, and some who didn't, but they are of no consequence to the superior being that is Zaltin. He is a wanted criminal with a high enough bounty on his head to buy a small kingdom, but quite simply no one has been able to catch him.Reason for wanting the Stone: Solo gloria meo. It must be mine for none may have the privilege of owning what I deserve.

I was planning on adding more and revising him over the course of the week. Mainly I was planning on fleshing out his personality, doing his revival, rewriting everything and then adding bits and pieces (long dead friends, what he wanted his reward to be, what it was like to be dead for so long, random memories and what he wants now) for others to use.

Last edited by TheKidd on Mon Sep 12, 2011 2:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Name: Simon Emrys Lex’AnderNicknames/aliases: Si ‘The Mechman’ LexEye color: A glowing blue that alternates from bright and shining to deep and dark, depending on his mood and how the light is reflecting off them.Hair color: Dark brownAge: 19 years oldRace: Human

Appearance: -Approx. 6ft tall.-Very lean, wiry build (appears slim and lithe, but has deceptively strong muscles).-Despite his mechanically modified body, his skin covers any metal so he looks like a normal person.-Very short dark brown hair, cut close to the scalp.-Eyes are replaced by partly mechanical versions that use two specially cut, but non-magical, blue crystals to direct light onto the remaining optical nerves. His vision is slightly clearer and sharper than that of a normal Human, but his eyes appear completely Human unless examined closely.-Wears whatever clothes he can find; usually cheap, easy to replace fabrics because of the tendency for his clothes to get torn, burnt, or otherwise damaged in fights.

Powers: -Advanced Cellular Regeneration (heals much more rapidly than normal, and can survive serious wounds).-Enhanced Strength, Speed, Stamina, Agility and Dexterity.-Magical Resistance (all forms of magic have either no affect on him, or only cause superficial damage).-Magic Detection (can ‘see’ and ‘sense’ magical energy as a side effect of the properties of the crystals in his eyes combined with his Magical Resistance).-Metal-plated and reinforced skeletal structure (bones highly durable).

Weapons: -Mechanical arms with internal weaponry.----Right Forearm contains a 3ft long Blade that extends out parallel to the back of his hand.----Left Forearm contains two 1ft long Blades that extend out at right angles to his hand.----Finger tips contain very sharp 1inch long extending metal claws.----All internal weaponry is highly damaging to magical creatures and constructs, due to his Magical Resistance giving them anti-magic properties.-Whatever he can find lying around will often end up being used as a weapon (makeshift metal/wood/stone clubs, staffs, projectiles, etc).-His fighting style changes depending on his opponent and environment, but is usually highly acrobatic, hitting fast and hard from very close while avoiding slower heavy attacks and deflecting fast light attacks with his blades.

Personality:From his birth, Si has been very confident and active, preferring to do his own thing rather than follow rules, unless he sees something in it for himself. Since developing his abilities, his confidence has grown to enormous levels, as no one has been able to make him do anything he didn't want, and all conflicts have ended decisively in his favour. In combat, he usually acts on a combination of instinct and combat skills, and although he does often play around with his foes first, he goes straight for the kill when he wants to end it quickly - however, when fighting enemies with a distinct advantage he will use his head to level the playing field, usually through manipulation of his environment to his advantage, instead of rushing in blindly.

Biography: When Simon was born in the bustling, vast city of Archropolis - a city that prided itself on its research into the arcane and mechanical - he was just another of the many, unremarkable humans that called the city home. Indeed, even his abandonment at the steps of one of the city’s orphanages was hardly unusual; he simply joined the many hundreds of other children whose parents could either not afford to keep them, or just didn’t want to. He was raised as another ordinary human, surrounded by ordinary humans, in a large, socially, magically and technologically complex, but otherwise perfectly normal and ordinary, city. Yet he was destined to become one of the most extraordinary, and unique, humans to ever live.

From a young age, Simon’s exceptional enthusiasm manifested itself in a desire for mischief that he made up for with his proficiency with all things technical - put simply, he made trouble, broke stuff, then fixed them up better than before. As he grew up the orphanage’s owners learnt to minimise his chaotic tendencies while maximising on his skill with mechanical construction and repair. By the time he reached 15 - the age at which all children were required to leave the orphanage and find their way in the world - rumours of his abilities had reached a minor Professor at the Archropolis’ Institute for Technical and Magical Innovation, who offered him a job as his assistant.

Over the following year, Simon worked his way up through the ranks of the Institute until he reached the position of assistant to one of the Institute’s most influential Professors. He was working with some of the most innovative mechanics and magics in the world, alongside a reputable genius, and yet he was only just 16 years old. Life was good.

It didn’t last.

One fateful day, an experiment on anti-magic went terribly, catastrophically wrong, and the resulting explosion killed a number of people, including Simon’s mentor, and grievously injured Simon himself, resulting in the loss of his arms, eyes, and other major assorted body parts. Although many were surprised at the fact that he still lived despite his injuries, everyone accepted that it was only at matter of time before he died - everyone, that is, except his mentor’s greatest rival. He realised that Simon’s body was not only surviving, but also healing at an, albeit only slightly, increased rate. Recognising a perfect opportunity to test his newest, most radical idea - the replacement of organic body parts with mechanical parts - he had Simon transported to his private laboratory and set to work.

By the time he was finished, both Simon’s arms and eyes had been replaced with functioning mechanical versions, while his skull and bones were reinforced with metal plating.

Knowing of Simon’s dislike for following instructions, the Professor attempted to use magical manipulation to have him obey his orders. At first it worked - Simon’s mind was suppressed, and the rival Professor began to use him as a slave/bodyguard, having him perform tasks he deemed too dangerous or trivial for himself. Eventually though, Simon’s magical resistance developed to the point where he was able to regain control, and, after ‘assisting’ the Professor’s suicide (he had, accidentally, revealed that he was the cause of the initial anti-magic explosion - he’d been attempting to ruin his rival’s reputation, but had gone too far), Simon reluctantly left his lifetime home of Archropolis and began to travel the world.

Over the years, Simon’s abilities developed to the point that he was immune to the effects of most forms of magic, and highly resistant to the rest. Wounds that would take normal humans years to recover from would be completely healed in a matter of hours, and his combat skills were enhanced greatly above that of most people. His skin grew over his arms and other metal parts, until he looked like a perfectly normal person, allowing him to pass through crowds without attracting attention. There were disadvantages - his magical resistance made it impossible for him to use magical items, as he negated their effects automatically as they were used, while his metal parts made him exceptionally heavy for his size - but overall he became a powerful, dangerous foe.

At first he avoided conflict wherever possible, only using his abilities in self-defence; however he quickly became bored of the peaceful life, and began to seek out fights with challenging foes, usually evil as their deaths were less likely to incite public fear and bounties for his capture. Even though such bounties would have led to many good fights, he prefers fights started on his terms - besides, it doesn’t matter how much someone might like combat, no one wants to get ambushed by amateur bounty hunters while relaxing in their favourite pub.

Over the years he also kept an eye and an ear out for evidence and rumours of powerful magic, knowing that being on the wrong end of a strong enough spell could be one of the only things that could end him, regardless of his resistance. And so it came to be that, while drinking in a small tavern, he heard whispered rumours of a magical stone far to the north, an item that could do anything the user wished, an artefact that many powerful beings would surely be searching for, and a shard of ancient magic that could also, just maybe, be strong enough to be Si ‘The Mechman’ Lex’s undoing........

Reason for wanting the Stone: He wants to fight the challenging opponents that are sure to be going after the stone. He also wants to see if the stone can hurt him, and, if it can, destroy it or hide it somewhere his enemies would never be able to find it.

((I may make some additions/changes when they come to me, but for now I think I'm finished.))((Soooooooo..........whadaya think ))

Last edited by Dusk9 on Tue Sep 13, 2011 8:43 am, edited 4 times in total.

Name: Kane Selion (Name taken from last game he was in that was abandoned)

Nickname: Orcslayer

Eye Color: Auburn, with hints of Navy around the edges

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Age: 25

Race: Human

Appearence:

Wearing a dark brown leather tunic, Kane is a regular guy, slightly muscular and slightly tan, perfectly average and strong-looking for his height, fairly fast for a human of his age, and bearing a scar across his left eye, where in a battle with an orc of the East the tip of the orc's sword scissoring across his face.

Weapons/Powers:-Very Skilled with a Sword. Also his tounge, as many of his opponents he enrages and kills while they are recklessly charging in-Faster than the average human-Blessed by the god of luck, enabling him to survive and win against things that should be able to crush him by coughing in his general direction (he doesnt know this though, he thinks it is pure luck and not granted by a god)

Biography:Born in the village of Arad Dun, Kane grew up in a life of poverty, raised in a family of seven by a mother who had no food to feed them. At the age of seven, four of Kane's brothers and one of his sisters had perished of starvation, as well as his mother, leaving him and his two remaining siblings to fend for themselves. At the age of 14, Kane was able to enlist himself into the human army by way of his tounge, which had grown sharp and cunning under the streets, and soon realised he was no better nor worse than anyone here.

Eventually the village was assaulted by the orcs of the East, and Kane and his sole remaining sibling, is brother Jacob, helped the army fend off the orcish invasion.

But the orcs were not done.

Their chieftain himself assaulted the already battered army, and the humans drew back, while Jacob and Kane battled the chieftain. The chief, known as "Strong as Giant" easily took Kane out of the fight with a shoulder bash, leaving him bleeding to death, and fought Jacob, after a couple minutes lopping his arm off, taking the brother's sword with both hands and stabbing him in the heart.

While Jacob lay dead, Kane was still alive. In a vision brought on by near death, a god approached him, offering him the ability to avenge his brother and protect others in return for a favor when the time came: Kane accepted, and was brought to earth in a flash, to find the orcs had taken over the town, and where about to execute the remaining civilians.

Using his always above average speed, Kane decapitated the executioner and somehow, to his own astonishment, was able to kill the orcs, forcing them to retreat, when Strong As Giant barged in and attacked Kane, the two fighting a climactic battle for twenty minutes, before Kane's sharp words and the exhaustion of the battle finally got to the chief, while Kane strangely seemed unaffected, the orc charged in recklessly and managed to make a sharp wound across Kane's left eye, before the human grabbed his brother's own sword and stabbed the orc in the heart.

Since then, Kane has honed his swordsmanship to great levels, and has forgotten the vision, shown as an example of what humanity can do even without hulking muscles or brute strength. To this day he serves in the army, and one day was struck by a vision, told to take hold of the wishing stone by the god of luck himself. Not remembering the god, but for some reason feeling bound to this order, Kane left the army and now searches for the stone.

Reason for wanting the stone: The God of Luck learned about the wishing stone and is using an oath forgotten by Kane to grab it for his own ends.

OtherPersonality: Caring, Generous, and Kind. Protects those weaker than him, and tries to fight evil. Feels the army commanders are corrupt, but doesnt know how he can stop it.Clothes His dark brown leather tunic, and leather greaves. He feels chainmail slows him down, and he cant save others fast enough with it on. When not fighting, he wears a simple brown linen shirt and brown leather pants.

SPOILERS:How is this, vid? Too overpowered?

This is a signature.

One Winner of the Arena Slaves (GetAwayIWanttoBeAlone) and Goblin Heroes (Killsafriend)

No, it's perfect. In a RW you're fighting other writers, no matter how 'powerful' a character you write, they're not invincible. Your opponent will find a way to defeat you. It's about writing a better piece, not making a more powerful character - with that in mind, make sure you give it an edit.

Actually some of the best RW battles I've seen are when an underpowered but well written character takes on and defeats an incredibly powerful opponent. Everyone loves an underdog.

Dusk9 wrote:-snip

Great detail, well fleshed out. Looking forward to how you write him in a fight.

So I have three characters that span about 300 years of history and I can't decide which one/which version to use! It would be a great help if you guys voted on them or PMed me which one you liked best.Gawain (150 years old): A Lich with control over bone. He can make bone weapons and control dust telepathically. Only works on bones from the earth. He ran away from his creator "Father" because he realized he was being trained to commit atrocities. (His Phylactery is an old Key)

Morban Fury (50 Years old): Another Lich created by "Father" soon after Gawain ran away. Dominion over flesh, he can control his own and yours if you taste his blood. His one task is to find Gawain and bring his phylactery back. (Morban's Phylactery is a bronze dagger)

Gawain (200, demonpact): Gawain made a deal with a demon in order to help defend himself from the wake of destruction that was his younger brother. His right arm is covered in glowing green runes that give him power over decay. He can infuse bone weapons and dust with a rotting aura and craft more than lethal poisons.

Roderick (70 years old): After attempting to capture Gawain for over a century, this ghostly toddler starts following the two brothers, claiming he is the third. He has Dominion over Souls, including that of inanimate objects. (Roddy's phylactery is a bone ring that looks not too far from a snowflake)

The Triumvirate (minus Roderick, Gawain is now 350): To save the love of Gawain's life from the pits of Hell, Gawain strikes a deal with Morban, promising to return if he saves her. By now Morban has also fallen in love and has no wish to return to Father, but also knows that the only way to get out of Hell is by joining. The brothers fuse together, forming a giant creature with mastery over both brother's powers. No demon can stand in their way. The brother's find themselves trapped, unable to separate, and they were never on good terms. (Phylactery becomes a bone flute)

The Triumvirate (Plus Roderick, Gawain still 350): All of the above, with the wonkiness of Roderick, who can come and go as he pleases. Roderick takes full control and the other personalities lay dormant.

Gawain (380, after Mornwell): The Brother's Three search for an ancient item that can undo their fusion, The Mornwell. Tis a sword with untold power over the undead, possibly able to split Morban and Gawain apart. The ritual works (destroying The Mornwell in the process), though Gawain is no longer as innocent as he once was and Morban is no longer as bloodthirsty. Both realize their lovers are worthless.

Morban Fury (240, After Mornwell): Morban has tasted ultimate power, and now he wants his brother's abilities. He seeks a way to bring back The Mornwell to enslave his brother's within his own phylactery, gaining their abilities.

Roderick (140): No longer a childish toddler, he looks about 19 and is no longer as naive. Seeking understanding for his and his brother's creation, Roderick seeks out "Father."

Morban, The Fleshtaker (350): Morban has succesfull absorbed his brothers with a new Mornwell (Destroying the blade in the process of course). But now Morban must master their abilities, lest he lose his mind. He still has no idea how Roderick shut the voices out. Everything screams for attention, wanting to be heard or found or understood.

Ok that was a mouthful! Please tell me which one you like best. all of them can work to want the wishing stone so don't worry about that.